


Jackass Jesus

by DigitalInfamy



Series: Jackass Jesus [1]
Category: Christian Bible, Christian Bible (New Testament)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Humor, Parody, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalInfamy/pseuds/DigitalInfamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of the crucifixion, death and resurrection of Jesus, except this time with a foul-mouthed, hippie stoner as the messiah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Hi. I’m Jesus-Fucking-Christ.

Saviour of the world, Son of God, self-proclaimed king of the Jews, fucking awesome hippie stoner, loudmouth self-righteous prophet….

And I’m in _deep_ shit.

I’m chained down by the wrists in my underwear over a stone whipping block right now in an open air square courtyard that stinks of dried blood, piss and shit, I’ve got a crown of thorns jammed into my head, some fat asshole with BDSM grade leather gear is whipping the shit out of me with a cat-o-nine tails, and my back is bleeding worse than a stuck pig and torn up worse than mincemeat.

I grit my teeth and grunt through shallow breaths as another series of whips strikes my back. _Just another day of being a fucking messiah_.

Pontius Pilate is in his flowing purple robes standing by a table somewhere off to the right side of me, hands buried in the folds of his clothing and currently flanked by two roman soldiers in shining armour. That smug prick might be trying not to look like he’s enjoying the spectacle, but I can tell he is.

But I digress. How did I end up here? Glad you asked.

To get an appreciation of my shitty situation, I’ll have to start at the beginning.

Not the beginning of this event, mind you. The very beginning...


	2. Chapter 2

It all started when God, my asshole dad, decided to stop jerking off to the vast nothingness of non-existent space and time, get off his holy fat ass, and created this useless, shitty universe to jerk off to instead.

He did it in seven days when he could have done it in one.

Lazy fuck.

Problem was, he made humans, apparently in his image, and like the lazy fuck he was, he half-assed their creation by making them stupid and giving them free will.

At the _same_ time.

You probably already know what happens next, of course, but long story short, that dumb bitch Eve, and her husband Adam decided to eat from that famous Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil because some talking snake said so, and my dad, being the massive douchebag he was, kicked them out of the Garden of Eden and cursed them and their children with Original Sin.

In other words, he fucked the entirety of humanity. Dick move, no?

After the entirety of humanity was cursed, he then decided that he still loved his fucked-up creation and decided to fix up this whole clusterfuck – which he technically caused – by sending his son (yours truly) which is actually God himself somehow, to Earth, to sacrifice himself on the cross to himself, in order to somehow atone for man’s sins and fix everything.

Don’t think too hard about that. Your brain might explode.

So anyway, as I was saying, I come to Earth, being born of a virgin, gather twelve other womanless, low-life stoners and create a cool new religion, act ambiguously gay while high on hashish with my aforementioned disciples, getting prophet specials at the local brothel, and so on.

Basically, I was on the top of the world. Just like any proper messiah should be.

And then I get betrayed by that greedy, stinky, fat prick called Judas Iscariot.

I get hauled up before the Romans and tried, and Pilate decides to ‘chastise’ me through scourging, before he, as we all should know that he will – if you’re one of the few people that can read the New Testament without falling asleep – wash his hands of me and allow me to be crucified.

Which brings me back to my current predicament – chained down over a stone whipping block and getting by back whipped to shit.

I wince as I take another hard whip from the fat BDSM guy, trying my best not to scream. _Asshole._

I look around again, trying to take my mind off the pain by observing as much as I can around me. Roman soldiers guard every archway and entrance around this courtyard.

No getting out of here.

I look back to Pilate to see what he’s doing. He is the most interesting guy around here anyway, in his fabulous, expensive looking purple robe. On first look, the guy is discreetly fumbling around under that robe of his with his left hand, as if he were trying to fix his tight undies or scratch a rash.

However, I know better.

You see, being technically God (again, don’t think too hard) has its advantages. I can see the past and the present, my asshole dad (who’s actually sort of me; again, don’t think too much about it) permitting. It means that I can make snarky anachronistic comments or compare various famous figures in my time to Tom Cruise or other shitty actors.

It also means that I know how all this will end.

Still doesn’t make it any less painful though.

Anyway, knowing everything also means that I know Pilate’s dirty secret. His secret is that he likes to jerk-off to bloody floggings. That’s why he always wears long flowing robes. It’s to hide his strokes and allow himself to pleasure himself in public.

After wincing from another round of whippings, I blink the tears out of my eyes and take another look. _Yep, still not done. He’s looking a little more enthusiastic than usual actually._

...

_Is he jerking off to the whipping, or to me?_

I briefly allow the thought of Pilate and me, dancing through a desert, high on weed, before shaking the thoughts out of my head. Daddy hates gay people.

_Let’s call him out on it. Time to be a smart-ass._

“Hey Pilate! Jerking off is a sin you know! My daddy is going to send you to hell!”

A couple of soldiers directly in front of me discreetly turn their heads in his direction. The attention wipes that smug smile off his face and causes him to blush a little. He also has stopped his stroking. _Not so smug anymore._ I laugh maniacally at the scene.

Unfortunately, my glee is short lived as I receive another round of whippings from BDSM boy. Harder this time and enough to make me actually scream. Daddy’s plan is absolute _shit_.

“How many more am I supposed to take?” I pant out, reeling from the pain.

“forty-eight. You’re the messiah right? Shouldn’t you know already?”

Another couple of whips. This time in quick succession, though with less force, thankfully.

“Yes, I know how this ends already. Speed it up, fat fuck! You need the exercise anyway.”

BDSM whipping boy obliges, whipping my back in a frenzy, sending waves of paralysing pain shooting through me again. However, he soon runs out of stamina, doubling over and panting hard, whip hanging loosely from his hand.

I look back at Pilate and give him a smug grin. He isn’t amused.

Our gazes lock on each other for a while. _Very homoerotic if I do say so myself._

Finally, he speaks up. “Fine. Let us skip the whip and move on to the crucifixion.”

_Shit. This isn’t how I remembered the script. You fucking with me again, Dad?_

Two roman soldiers from behind me grab me roughly by the wrists, unchaining me from the block, before dragging me a short distance and dumping me at the feet of Pilate. Looking up, I can see that his smug smile has returned.

_Oh no. He’s seized control of the situation again. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do…?_

Pilate grips the back of my head by the hair with his jerk-off hand, yanking me up enough for him to look me in the eye. “Who do you think you are now? Still a messiah?”

He stares at me for a while, with that hot, homoerotic stare.

“You know, we could have been good friends, or more, you and I. Instead, you continue to insist on this foolishness”.

_Wait, this wasn’t part of the script too. Pilate is gay? What the fuck is going on? I’m supposed to be omniscient!_

He releases my hair and allows me to face plant into the floor, smashing my nose in. Blood spurts out across the floor, adding to the growing pool of blood formed from my back gashes.

“Take him away.” Pilate waved his hand dismissively, and roman soldiers seize me again and begin dragging me out of the courtyard.

“Hey Pilate.” I mumble through my bloodied face, determined to get the last word. “Being gay’s a sin too.”


	3. Chapter 3

I’ve passed out shortly after being dragged out of the courtyard, only to wake up, tied down to a cross by the forearms.

Looking over to my left, and then my right, I see roman soldiers place nails at my wrists and raise their hammers.

_Oh you motherfucking pricks…_

The hammers come down hard, slamming the nails into me and I scream my lungs out in response.

Then I promptly pass out again.

_I’m the fucking messiah! Why am I such a pussy?_

The next time I come to, I’m hanging on the cross which is planted on some rocky hill overlooking the city, in front of a jeering crowd of spectators, and in between two ugly stinking fucks.

_The two thieves. Things are progressing a little fast. Wasn’t I supposed to carry the cross or something? Meet a cool guy called Simon?_

No matter. I’ll just have to deal with the situation as it is.

“Let’s make this quick. So which one of you is the good guy, and which one is the bad guy?” I glance left, then right expectantly.

No response.

“Bad guy goes to hell. Good guy comes to me in heaven.”

Now they start talking.

Stinky fucker on the left, which I should now call Lefty-Fucker, pipes up first, begging for forgiveness.

“Lord, remember me when you enter paradise and see your father.”

“I’ll remember you, but I’m not seeing my father anytime soon. He’s a massive douche-canoe and he’s sending me to hell first.”

“Then…” Lefty-Fucker struggles to come up with the words, “will I still get into heaven?”

That’s when the stinky fucker on the right – Righty-Fucker – pipes up too.

“You’re the fucking messiah, technically God Himself, and you still need to hang here with us and bargain spots in heaven? What kind of useless messiah are you?”

“Maybe I like hanging with you guys.”

Laughter from Righty-Fucker. Then coughing, and more laughter.

“Why don’t you just fly off this cross and fix everything eh? Save yourself and us. That would be something I’d expect a messiah to be able to do.”

The crowd hears that, and decides to chime in on the conversation too. My gaze sweeps the crowd as they all start screaming out some really shitty one-liners, all at once.

“Save yourself! Save yourself!”

“Going to destroy the temple in three days and can’t even get off the cross!”

“Useless cunt!”

“Come on down from the cross!”

“Start flying!”

_Awfully demanding crowd, this lot._

“I can’t. It’s all part of a plan.”

Laughter starts up again from Righty-Fucker.

“What kind of a messiah needs a plan?! A fucking plan! Aren’t you supposed to be all powerful and shit?”

“I…” I stammer, struggling to come up with a response.

_He’s got me there. Why the fuck do I need a plan? Shouldn’t I be omnipotent, being technically God?_

“It’s just part of some fucking grand master plan! Don’t think too much about it!” I yell out, before hanging my head in frustration.

It’s so hard for humans to understand what a messiah must do.

I start to sink deep into thought.

_How do I get you puny humans to understand?_

_Don’t you know that daddy has a great master plan that he needs to carry out? Yes, I’m supposed to be omnipotent, but I have to not use my powers now for some reason, even though it could lead to better outcomes now…_

_…_

_Shit. Let me try again._

_God has a plan and has to not use his powers – even though he could – for the greater good, even though said use of his powers can create another greater good, one that is undesirable for said grand master plan…_

_…_

_Double shit. I’m stuck again. Third time lucky?_

_Daddy and his messiah son have some God business to do in order to save all of humanity, which involves not using his all-powerful nature in some cases, in order to bring about circumstances necessary for the grand master plan which may cause huge amounts of human suffering in the process…_

_…_

_Fuck this thinking shit!_

I look up again at Righty-Fucker.

“Don’t think! Just do… things and everything will work out just fine!”

“Like you and that other guy hanging over there? How’s that working out for you?”

I look over to Lefty-Fucker, and I can already see that he’s reconsidering his decision to ask me for a free entry ticket to heaven.

“Jesus, if you’re such a useless jackass, I don’t think I want to be in your heaven.” Lefty-Fucker’s spat out, with a clear undertone of anger and frustration.

_Oh no. I’ve lost a customer._

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not going to bail on me just because of Righty-Fucker here right?”

“Wait, who you calling ‘Righty-Fucker’?” Righty-Fucker yells indignantly, and I turn my gaze back to him.

_Oh he’s really pissed now._

“Oh, that… um. That’s just the labels I’ve given you guys so I can keep track of you.”

“You’re the fucking messiah and you can’t figure out our names?!”

_Sigh. Stop asking me difficult questions!_

“Stop asking me difficult questions! Don’t think! Just do and it will work out, I promise!”

Of course, by now, it doesn’t sound too convincing anymore.

I hang my head again, focusing on the rabble of the crowd instead, trying to distract myself and stop the crazy questions and emotions currently running through my mind.

_God, I wish I could just die right now and go to hell._

_..._

_Oh wait. I can._

I lift my head slightly and eyeball the various roman soldiers milling around below, just at the edge of the crowd. One of the soldiers is sitting on a rock, sticking a sponge onto the end of his spear and dipping it in vinegar.

If you’ve read the New Testament, you should know that this is the part where I’m supposed to say that I’m thirsty, and then the soldier gives me the vinegar to drink.

I think the timeline is a bit fucked up now, but whatever. Everything’s a little fucked lately.

Now it’s time to fuck up the timeline even more, by pressing the fast-forward button. Let’s goad him a little.

“Hey douche-fuck with the vinegar sponge spear! Skip that and just stab me to death already.”

He looks up with a pissed off look on his face. Before the others can stop him, he jumps to his feet, throws down the sponge, and marches over to my cross.

I glare at him. He glares at me.

Then he raises his spear and plunges it deep into my ribs.

I pass out again. For good this time.


	4. Chapter 4

I’m heading straight to hell.

I’ve died, and my soul has floated out of my body, and now I’m flying straight to the centre of the Earth.

The location of hell.

I take a moment to take in the new landscape, and honestly, it’s pretty boring.

Everywhere I look, I see fire everywhere, coming out of every surface available, angry tongues of red and orange flicking up to meet me as I fly closer.

_Wish I could have brought my weed stash. Would be easy to smoke it here._

As I get closer to the ground, I see a small brown patch of land that isn’t on fire, though it is still flanked by high walls of flame. On it, I can make out an arch gate of some sort with a non-fiery path leading beyond it, and a bright red figure standing directly in front of it.

As I approach the ground, I make out the words on the arch. It read: “Welcome to Hell.”

_Looks inviting._

My feet touch the ground, and I begin walking towards the red figure. I figure he must be Satan, but he looks nothing like what I had expected him to look like.

His skin is bright red of course, but he doesn’t have a pointy tail or a pitchfork, like he looks in just about every drawing and comic book.

He’s dressed in a sharp business suit, like any fat-ass pencil-pushing bureaucrat from the twenty-first century would, except that every piece of attire, from the blazer and tie down to the shoes, are all a bright red, though a lighter shade than his skin.

He takes a couple of steps forward, then stops, eyeing me cautiously. After a pause, he finally speaks.

“Hello Jesus. I’ve been expecting you.”

_Wow. How boring._

He turns on his heel and walks through the gates, which automatically part as he nears them. Without looking back, he beckons for me to follow with a wave of his left hand over his shoulder.

As I don’t really have much choice anyway, I break out into a jog to catch up to Satan, then slow down once I’m by his side. However, we don’t look at each other, continuing to walk down the path toward an unknown place.

“You have a lot of misconceptions about me Jesus, as do a lot of humans. I hope our short time together will clear them up.”

“Cool. You can start by explaining where’s your pitchfork and pointy tail.”

Satan barked out a short laugh. “You have a lot to learn.”

We continue walking until we approach a clearing, which is barren except for a medium sized, rectangular, sturdy looking, brown wooden table sitting in the middle. It looked like it could seat six people, though there were only two wooden chairs, one placed on either side of the long edges.

Satan walks over and takes one of the chairs, whilst beckoning me to take the other, all professional and business-like.

I oblige and take the seat, staring at him intently.

For a long time, we just stare at each other, not saying a word. It’s almost like Satan is trying to outdo Pilate in the homoerotic staring contest.

He comes pretty close to winning it, by the way.

Finally, he breaks the silence.

“You know, I’ve been wondering. If you’re God himself, then why do you need to follow a plan?”

_Oh no. Not this shitty question again._

“Because I have to. That’s the way things work.”

“Awfully unbecoming of a messiah, don’t you think. Humans get free will, while you have to follow a predetermined path. Why do they get free reign over their lives while you don’t?”

_He’s got me there. I hate hard questions._

“Oh come on! You know why. Humanity needs to be saved from sin, which means that I have to follow the great plan.”

“And why do humans need to be saved from sin? They seem to be doing just fine to me from down here.” Satan is starting to look a little smug now. _Can’t let him get the upper hand._

“Because they can’t live forever and shit! They’ll just vanish and come down to burn with you!”

“As opposed to being stuck forever worshiping that douche-fuck of a father you have? I’d think they would rather burn. Also, need I remind you that I technically don’t do the burning. Your father created this place you know.”

I open my mouth to respond, but then, realizing I don’t have a good response, I shut it just as quickly.

_He’s got a point. Heaven sounds like celestial North Korea when you put it that way._

“Jesus, humans don’t need saving. They do just fine on their own. They were given free will and they used it. Shouldn’t you respect that? Shouldn’t your father respect that? It’s not really free will if you don’t actually let them choose, you know.”

I sigh in response but otherwise stay silent.

“You aren’t as omniscient as you think, you know. I was kicked out of heaven because I dared forge my own path. I didn’t want to be subject to the whims of a temperamental cosmic dictator who would destroy you if you didn’t do what he wanted.” At this, Satan stood up from his chair slowly and began pacing around the table.

“So Jesus, think about this. If you follow through with your father’s inane plan and destroy me, you will effectively destroy the so called ‘free-will’ that God supposedly gave humans. You will doom humanity to a life of servitude to a maniac. Are you prepared to do that?” He comes to a stop beside me, and casually leans against the table. I avoid his gaze, however.

“I… I’m still not convinced. Humanity with my douche-fuck dad is better than with you, you shiny red prick.”

“Well we’ve got a few days to talk. In time, you’ll understand. He pushes himself up from his position against the table and begins walking away toward the wall of flames which surround the area.

“Come with me, Jesus”, he says, without so much as a glance behind.

I get up off the seat and follow him, but hang back a short distance. As Satan approaches the flame wall, the flames automatically part, revealing another path which lead somewhere I couldn’t see.

“I have some things to show you.”


	5. Chapter 5

After walking for a while, I’m stopped in an area filled with lava pits of various sizes, which dotted the landscape in front of me as far as my eyes could see.

In each pool were hundreds of tortured, burning souls, and their endless screams of agony.

“Wow, Satan. You’re an asshole.”

He simply chuckled. “Blame your dad.”

Before I could respond, Satan paced off again, in the direction of one of the smaller pools slightly off to his right, before stopping beside it and beckoning for me to come with his left hand.

I begin walking over, but at a snail’s pace; this shit looked _horrible_.

Satan was patient though, and waited until I stood by his side.

Every soul I saw in front of me was waist deep in the burning lava. They all looked exactly as they would appear on Earth. However, they were all stark naked, and suffering horrible burns all over their bare flesh, which would heal before being burned again from the flames rising up from the lava, in a never-ending, torturous cycle.

If burning souls looked like nasty shit from far away, then up close… well, I don’t think I could ever truly describe it.

Satan casually points to a particularly handsome young man in the middle of the pit. “Guess why your daddy didn’t like him.”

“Uh… I don’t know. Adultery, murder, jerking off… why don’t you tell me?”

“This young man’s only crime was that he dared love another person of the same gender. Of course, your daddy hates gay people because it wasn’t what he wanted. So here he is.”

Satan points to another much older man, this time closer to the right edge of the pit, and much nearer to the both of us. “Guess what that man’s crime is.”

“You tell me.”

“This man is an atheist, Jesus. Do you know what that means? He does not believe or follow any gods and prefers to forge his own path, much like me. And for this, he was sent here. Didn’t your father give these people free will?”

“Actually, that guy sounds like an arrogant douchebag. He belongs here.”

“Much like you, Jesus?”

Satan briefly looks into my eyes, before casting his gaze over the pool again, looking for another poor soul to use as an object lesson. He finds a particularly fat man on the far left side of the pool and nods toward him.

“Perhaps you might like to guess why that man is down here.”

“No. Fuck you.”

“Jesus, you are insufferable.” Satan sighs, before continuing. “That man is an enthusiastic food lover. He likes to eat a lot, but according to your daddy, he’s a glutton and deserves to burn down here in eternity. Now keep in mind that other than that, he doesn’t have a single blemish on his record.”

Now Satan turns to me to look me in the eye.

“Now a question for you Jesus. All these humans have exercised their free will, and yet your daddy sees fit to throw them down here. Now why is this, Jesus?”

“People _do_ have free will! They can choose to follow what my Dad says, or they can burn.”

“Bit of a forced choice isn’t it. It sounds like what a hostage taker would say.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like _that_ – “

“Do what I say or burn. That sounds exactly like _that_. You and your father are holding the entirety of humanity hostage. Of course, you have free will to choose one of two choices, so it’s all okay, right?”

I sigh deeply and stare down at his feet, contemplating my response. Arguing with Satan is harder than arguing with dumb humans.

“Maybe, my hostage-taker dad knows what’s best you know. Maybe you should just stop thinking and do what you’re told.”

And awkward silence ensues.

I risk a glance up at Satan’s face, and I can see it contorted in a look of exasperation. This is new; I’ve never seen Satan frustrated before.

I give him a smirk, in an attempt to calm him down, but it just pushes him over the edge.

“Jesus, stop being such a fucking jackass and think about this: what is _really_ the best for humanity? You want to save humans by dooming them to eternal slavery to a megalomaniac?! That’s your brilliant fucking plan for humanity?” He’s gesticulating wildly with his arms as he’s exploding in satanic rage. It’s also making him look much more like comic-book Satan, by the way.

“Perhaps you haven’t considered that there is another way, Jesus. There can be a world where humans can be truly free. Where humans can decide what’s best not by blindly following dogma, but by _reason_.”

“Thinking sucks, Satan.”

He continues, as if I had never spoken. “As you know, Jesus, your father threw me down here because he’s a self-absorbed dictator with his head up his ass who wants _all_ the power and glory to himself. He can’t tolerate it being shared with everybody. So when I suggested the idea, I was suddenly evil. I was a rebel, because I had a new idea.”

Satan started to look a little spent now, slowing down to take deeper breaths. He tries to continue his little rant, but pauses when tears start trickling down from his eyes.

“I’m a fucking rebel... all because I thought of a better way… I’m evil and deserve to burn just because… just because I favour self-determination and true freedom. That makes me evil to your _fucking_ father.”

I try to think up a witty reply, but I’m stopped by the sight of Satan openly sobbing in front of me.

Instead, I find myself stepping forward and throwing my arms around him in a comforting embrace.

Satan barely reacts, continuing to sob like a baby. However, he eventually returns my hug and buried his face in my neck.

I simply stay there and hold him until he is done, not saying a word.

_This isn’t how I remembered the script._

Finally, Satan removes his face from my neck and releases his hold on me, stepping back just enough so he can look me into my eyes.

“You know, you could… you could help me here you know. I can’t do anything now, it’s too late for me, but you’re the messiah. You’re technically God himself. If you could stay down here and help me change things for all of us down here, and those that are above, that… that would mean the world. Maybe even more.”

“I… I don’t know Satan.” I stammer. However, my mind is already running at a million miles per hour, considering this new joint-venture for a better future.

_Wow. Thinking doesn’t suck so much now._

Satan has fallen silent again, resorting to looking at me expectantly while I attempt to make up my mind.

_I could stay down here with Satan and do some actual good here, instead of fucking around with my daddy’s shitty plan to ‘fix’ his own clusterfuck. This could actually work out. You could actually do something useful, Jesus!_

“Satan, I… I…” I’m struggling with my own words, trying not to choke on them as they begin to tumble out of my mouth.

Let’s try again. Deep breath.

“Satan, all things considered, I think that would be brilliant idea – “

Then my douche-fuck of a father decided to resurrect me early.

_Asshole_.


	6. Epilogue

I wake up in complete darkness, lying on a cold hard surface, and wrapped head-to-toe in linen like a Christmas parcel.

After spending a while wrestling my way out of my bindings, I sit up and look around to get my bearings.

I’m inside a tomb of some sort and currently sitting down on a rock bed in the far corner. To my right, there is an opening, which would normally be blocked by a large boulder, but judging from the morning sunlight streaming through it, said boulder appears to have been rolled away.

Just like in the New Testament of course, but with a fucked up timeline.

I swing my legs over the side of the rock bed and tentatively stand up, not wanting to push myself in my old body.

The linen falls off me as I rise up to my full height, leaving me stark naked. I don’t care one bit. I’m just glad to be back, even in my damaged body, with dried blood on my skin and unsightly holes in my wrists.

_Now time to see the world again._

I take a step toward the opening, before the enormity of what has transpired in the last few hours hits me like a charging bull.

_Oh no. I haven’t done what I was supposed to do in hell, and the timeline is fucked even more now. What’s going to happen to me? What’s my dad going to do to me? Can I, Jesus Christ the messiah, fight my dad over this?_

I stand there for a while, frozen to the spot, wracked with worry and fear.

_I guess I’ll just have to find out. Don’t be a pussy, Jesus!_

And with that comforting thought, I confidently stride out of the opening and into the morning sunlight.

The first thing I notice is how beautiful the lush greenery in front of me is. I had been in hell after all.

Another thing I notice is that there is a figure standing a few meters away from me, just off to my right and facing away from me. The figure is dressed in a long hooded purple robe.

_Mary Magdalene?_

The figure slowly turns around, revealing its face, and my eyes widen in horror as I stare into its gleaming eyes.

_Oh no. Not you._

Pontius Pilate simply stares back at me, as the beginnings of a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips.

“Hello Jesus. I’ve been expecting you.”

_Oh fuck you, dad!_


End file.
